Why Christopher Eccleston Left Doctor Who
by Scarlet Phlame
Summary: Christopher Eccleston meets the Tenth Doctor. Sort of.


"Bloody 'ell, that 'bout does it for the week," Billie Piper told Christopher Eccleston. "I'm exhausted."

"I feel like I've been run through the garbage disposal," Christopher Eccleston mumbled to her.

The two were leaning against a brick wall outside the studio, Billie tapping on her iPhone with one hand and sipping from a plastic cup full of iced tea in another. Christopher just stood there, staring ahead, arms to his sides and leg casually crossed over the other.

"I'm getting justifiably irritated," Billie said. "I mean, yeah, sure, I love this job, but last week, one of my mates called me Rose on accident."

"Know the feeling," Christopher told her with a nod. "I played this character in school for a play once, and everywhere I went for the rest of my four years there, they called me by that name. For four years!"

"Oh, I've got ta go," Billie said suddenly, looking at her watch. "See ya next week."

Christopher rolled his eyes, and let out a huffy answer. "See ya."

He stood there a minute more.

A decision he would later regret.

"EXTERMINATE!"

Christopher frowned. Was he hearing things?

"ALERT! ALERT! YOU ARE THE DOCTOR!"

He chuckled to himself. Yes, that must be it. Someone snuck some sort of ringtone onto his phone to startle him.

He patted down his pants and picked up his phone.

Oh. Right. It was at 0% battery.

He glanced up from the glassy screen to see a giant... pepperpot, staring him right in the face.

It was everything one would imagine a Dalek would look like, dark coppery-colored paint with a rubbery black stand at the bottom. The only thing that appeared to be damaged was the eyestalk, where a heavy crack sat in the centre.

"Wow," he whispered to himself. "That's a bit..."

The pepperpot moved.

"That's a good one," he said, smiling. "What, who's in there, then? Eva? George?" he crinkled his nose. "Napoleon? Nobody from the studio's that short..." he mumbled.

"YOU ARE THE DOCTOR," the pepperpot trilled.

"Very... realistic design," Christopher said. "How long did it take you to figure that one out?"

"YOU WILL BE EXTERMINATED!"

"Exterminate, regenerate," Christopher mumbled.

The Dalek looked up, then shot at his feet.

"What?" he gasped, looking at the ground, where a burnt patch of concrete sat still. "What." he looked back up at the Dalek.

"EXTERMINATE!" it wailed.

"This is going beyond a joke," he said.

"I REQUIRE DNA FROM A TIME TRAVELER!" the Dalek hissed.

"Oh," Christopher said. "But that episode hasn't aired yet. I just got the script for it last-"

Pause.

"No," he said with a shrug. "Preposterous. Like I said, who's it in there?"

Silence.

"Really, though, are you Napoleon?" he joked.

The Dalek shot another laser at random. This time, it hit a passerby woman, who screamed and crumpled to the floor.

Christopher froze.

Went. Checked a pulse.

Nothing.

"That's, uh... nice," Christopher said, his face paling. He looked back up at the Dalek.

And backed away slowly.

The Dalek pursued him.

"Your vision is impaired," he told it, hoping, hoping...

"I POSESS THERMODIC HEAT RELAYERS," the Dalek said, monotone.

"Right," he said quietly, looking at the woman, heart thumping.

"You!" someone he didn't know, someone he didn't want to be there, dashed right up next to him.

If someone was there, this was real.

"Come along, Eccleston!" he said.

"What?" Christopher asked as the man grabbed his hand and yanked him along down the path. "What- what about the Dalek?"

"You've caught on fairly quickly," the man noted. "Don't worry. I've contained it inside a biological mistelytic loop, rendering it incapacitating. Won't budge an inch."

"I'm sorry, but who are you?" Christopher asked, yanking his arm away.

"I'm the Doctor," the man said as if this answered everything.

"The Doctor isn't real," Christopher insisted. "He's a fictional character."

"Did that death look fictional?" the Doctor asked him.

Christopher looked down at the ground.

"Well, you don't look like the Doctor," he challenged bravely.

"I'm the tenth incarnation of the Doctor," the Doctor replied. "Well, technically speaking, the DoctorDonna, or Ten.5, but, same difference."

"Is it... true?" Christopher asked. "The... show?" he felt a bit dizzy, a bit lightheaded.

"Yeah," the Doctor said. "Sorry."

"How..." his voice trailed off.

"This is an alternate universe, where I never existed," the Doctor explained. "I didn't exist because I didn't need to. This is the most peaceful universe there'll ever be. Instead of chaos, you get peace."

"So the show- I mean, 'Doctor Who', it's... actually what happened to you, but instead of one man with several incarnations, you exist in separate forms?"

The Doctor nodded. "Precisely. And I'm sorry, I'm so sorry, but you'll have to die by the end of the first season."

"What?" Christopher yelled. "No! I love my job... even if I don't get along with the producers... even if it's tiring..."

"You need to quit," the Doctor told him. "By the end of the year. That Dalek, it popped into existence because the barriers between worlds are opening again. If I don't-" he paused, hearing the TARDIS distantly.

"That's the TARDIS," Christopher said dryly.

"Yeah," the Tenth Doctor said.

"So you're just going to leave me here," Christopher said.

"Yeah," the Tenth Doctor said.

"Then answer," Christopher said. "Why did that Dalek appear?"

The Doctor bit his lip. "It was... an accident."

"So it had nothing to do with the fact my resolve to stay in the show has grown stronger?" Christopher asked.

"Maybe a bit..." the Doctor said.

"Oh," Christopher said.

"These parallel worlds, they're connected. Time must flow, and your leaving the show is a fixed point in time. Something altered that," the Doctor said. "And I had to set it right."

"Then I've got to," Christopher realized. "Can I ever return to the show?"

"No," the Tenth Doctor said. "I'm sorry."

The TARDIS bleeped again and he spun around.

"That's my time," he said. "I've got to go."

"Wait," Christopher said. "Before you go..." he hesitated. "Can I..."

The Doctor nodded. "Go look inside."

* * *

The TARDIS.

The instant he entered it, he felt that real, true connection. It was silent, though, no humming noise. And no heavy creak of the door. It felt like he was on a film set, before they edited in the sounds.

"There's no hum," he said.

"It's still sentient," the Tenth Doctor told him.

"Ah," Christopher said. He circled the console, fingering the little gadgets on the flickering blue light. That blue glow, perhaps, was the most real thing of all.

And he finally knew, finally, that this was not where he was meant to be. His very being here seemed to contradict itself.

Earth was his home.

And Christopher knew this, understood this, as he watched the TARDIS fade out of existence.

He also knew he would never look at the world the same way again.


End file.
